"thou dost not seem no younger since I saw thee in Cornwall, and the
mirror yonder saith neither am I."

"Marry La'kin! but if I thought it metely possible, I would say it were
surely Mistress Philippa Basset!"

"I will not confute thee, Bab, though it be but metely possible," said
the lively old lady, laughing. "I came to see the child Clare; but
hearing she was hence, I then demanded thee. I will go down to the
parsonage anon. I would like well to see Robin, and Thekla likewise."

"Eh, Mistress Philippa! but there be great and sore changes sithence you
were used to come unto the Lamb to see Mistress Avery!"

"Go to, Barbara! Hast dwelt sixty years, more or less, in this world,
and but now found out that all things therein be changeable? What be
thy changes to mine? Child, there is not a soul that I loved in those
days when Isoult dwelt in the Minories, that is not now with God in
Heaven. Not a soul! Fifty years gone, brethren and sisters, there were
seven of us. All gone, save me!--a dry old bough, that sticketh yet
upon the tree whence all the fair green shoots have been lopped away.
And I the eldest of all! The ways of God's Providence be strange."

"I said so much once unto Master Robin," responded Barbara with a smile;
"but he answered, 'twas no matter we apprehended not the same, for the
Lord knew all, and ordered the end from the beginning."

"He hath ordered me a lonely journey, and a long," said Philippa sadly.
"Well! even a Devon lane hath its turning."

"And what brought you thus far north, Mistress Philippa, an' I make not
too bold?"

"Why, I came to see Bridget's childre. I have bidden these four months
gone with Jack Carden. And being so nigh ye all, I thought I would
never turn home without seeing you."

Lady Bridget Carden was the daughter of Philippa Basset's step-father.
They were not really related; but they had been brought up as sisters
from their girlhood.

"Nigh, Mistress Philippa!" exclaimed Barbara in surprise. "What, from
Cheshire hither!"

Philippa laughed merrily. "Marry come up, Bab! thou hast not dwelt
seven years in Calais, as I have, and every yard of lawn for thy
partlets to be fetched from London, and every stone of thy meat to boot.
Why, thou earnest thine own self as far as from Cornwall."

"Eh, marry La'kin! Never came I that way but once, and if God be
served, [if it be His will] I never look to turn again."

Philippa turned to Lady Enville, who had